The Emily Wilde series changed how I view romance in fantasy forever.

While many a romantasy has gone the route of “faerie prince meets ordinary girl,” Heather Fawcett found the perfect blend of fantasy and realism in building the world and her characters. Her version of 1909 Europe feels truly plausible, effectively turning mythical folklore into something more like forgotten history. Suddenly, upon opening the pages of these books, all the bedtime stories of the past became wonderfully (or dangerously) true. There’s adventure, high stakes, and, of course, romance. But, for the first time, the romance didn’t feel artificial, as if it was only there because the genre demanded it. Instead, these were two characters whose connection felt earned, and it’s changed how I view romance in fantasy ever since. 

In the first book, “Emily Wilde's Encyclopaedia of Faeries,” we follow Dr. Emily Wilde, an aloof, 30-year-old Cambridge professor studying Dryadology, or the study of faeries and the Folk. In her goal to complete the first encyclopedia of faerie lore, she ends up in Hrafnsvik, Ljosland, with her charismatic academic rival, Wendell Bambleby. Despite his charm, Emily finds him a bit pompous and, frankly, lazy. But there seems to be more than meets the eye, and unravelling his secrets—while learning about Hrafnsvik’s faerie history—leads Emily down a fiercely winding path of faerie royalty, murder and romance. 

I could write a hundred pages on the beautiful worldbuilding and complex lore of the Folk, but today I’ll restrain myself to Fawcett’s wonderful implementation of romance within her series. While I mentioned the romantasy genre previously, it’s important to note that the Emily Wilde series is more of a fantasy with a romance subplot. This means that romance is not a driving force in the story; instead, the focus is on Emily and Wendell’s research of the Folk (and all the adventures that come with it). Romantasy, on the flip side, has a greater responsibility to develop the romantic relationships since romance is a key force in the plot itself. Despite that, I believe Fawcett’s example of romance in the Emily Wilde series, even as a subplot, is a lot more realistic and appealing than most of the romantasy I have read. 

Let’s start with what makes a romance believable: the characters. Both Emily Wilde and Wendell Bambleby have characteristics that make sense, rather than using fantasy as a cop out for certain traits to exist. Not only that, but Fawcett isn’t afraid to give her characters flaws, even to the point where they can be a bit unlikeable. Emily is unsociable and hyper-rational, and her passion for Dryadology is always at the forefront of her mind. This means she can come across as cold or lacking in empathy, but despite that, she holds a deep sense of justice. Wendell, on the other hand, can be quite her foil: he’s sociable and charismatic, but vain and apathetic in his Dryadology studies. These traits make sense considering their upbringing: Emily has distant parents, which led her to books and eventual professorship, and Wendell is a faerie prince whose wants and needs were catered to at every turn. 

With such characteristics, it may be surprising that the two grow a connection. But Fawcett considered that. By making her work a fantasy with a romance subplot, Fawcett was able to develop the romance slowly, yet in a non-frustrating way that makes thematic sense with Emily and Wendell’s characters. For Emily, Wendell’s connection to fae royalty means he’s a great source of interest for her research. For Wendell, Emily’s the only human who’s resisted his magical charm and sees him for who he truly is. These characters have a reason to be interested in each other from the very beginning, which leads them to share adventures that naturally draw them closer. 

Now there’s one crucial aspect when it comes to intimacy in romance: sex. It’s often present in many a romantasy, and it’s present here, too. But unlike most of those works, sex (or even an “I love you”) is never the leading charge or goal of Wendell and Emily’s relationship. Instead, Fawcett develops a unique dynamic that carefully considers each individual’s identity, making the pinnacle of their intimacy the small gestures, subtle hints, and soft vulnerability they gradually share. For example, Emily will always be a realist who values her work above all else, and Wendell will always be vain and dramatic, albeit to each other’s chagrin. But as they begin to care for one another, they learn to allow a bit of leeway, and unlike many other fantasy couples, their relationship never drowns out who they are at their core. This type of care introduces a form of intimacy that I find is usually lacking in other romantic fantasies: one based on the trust and appreciation of each other’s traits and flaws. For me, having characters share intimacy in these meaningful, personal moments feels far more relatable and, therefore, authentic compared to relationships where intimacy is expressed mainly through sex. 

So, while it is not a romantasy like many other mainstream romance fantasies, the Emily Wilde series will always hold a special place in my heart for its representation of romance within a fantastical world. With strong character-building and meticulous attention to detail in connecting themes to the characters’ traits and desires, Fawcett does a wonderful job describing a romance with characters that truly feel like they embody me and the relationships I seek out. This trilogy is a fantastic read, and one I’d easily recommend to anyone. So, if you’ve been looking for a cozy fantasy with lovable, complex characters and a riveting plot (with a charming love story to accompany it), then consider giving “Emily Wilde's Encyclopaedia of Faeries” a try. It’s not one you’ll ever forget.